The Simple Things of Evergreen
by Different-Angel
Summary: Troy Bolton's perfect life is suddenly shattered by cruel reality. With a big loss and a hatred for the World, he unexpectedly meets her; someone he doesn't need at the moment, but finds out is the one able to help him live again. Troypay. Trailer up.
1. Trailer

Hello there, here I am again, with a new story – well at least with the trailer for the new story.

Please, tell me what you think, I'd really appreciate it. It's probably a little bit different from the other stories, but I hope you guys are going like it.

So, enough out of me. Read, enjoy and review! Thanks for checking it out.

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**He got everything he ever dreamed of.**

Troy Bolton, only 18, living the best years.

Troy surrounded by his family; mother and father, at the kitchen table.

Troy standing in the middle of an inside basketball court, looking up at the crowded stands, seeing people cheering for him.

**He was the captain of his basketball team…**

Troy being placed on the shoulders of his teammates, in his hands the trophy of the junior basketball league.

'Wildcats! Wildcats! Wildcats!'

He glances at his father – not only did he make his team proud; his coach was glowing with pride.

…**and school's most popular hottie.**

"Hello, are you kidding me! You're Troy fucking Bolton: Every girl wants to be with you and every guy wants to be like you!"

**He had great friends…**

"Hey man, you know I'll always be your 'brother' no matter what." Chad says as he places his hand on Troy's shoulder.

Troy sighs and looks into the mirror at Chad's reflection.

"Yeah, I know."

"Remember: …" He points out, with a pause, before both exclaim.

"Blood's thicker then Blockheads!"

…**and the girl of his dreams.**

Through the crowds of people in the gym a girl gently forces her way to Troy before jumping into his arms. Troy scoops her up and holds her tight, letting their noses touch.

"You did it." Gabriella smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Yeah." He murmurs, before kissing her. "Thanks to you and your hard to overhear shouting." He laughs.

**The only thing left to do for him was to seal their love.**

Troy and Gabriella sitting on a blanket, placed on a wide field; at night, enjoying a romantic picnic under the stars. Troy crawls nearer to her and leans on his knees before her. Gabriella's quite confused, until he reaches for his pocket and retrieves a ring box.

"Gabriella Montez," He breathes and opens the box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring. "I would want nothing more then to be yours forever. Will you marry me?"

Gabriella's wide opened mouth soon turns into a smile, tears gathering in her eyes."I'd love to." She whispers, before he puts the ring on her finger.

**Life was perfect**

Gabriella and Troy, standing before their friends and family, in the largest room on the small ship, holding hands, looking into each others eyes and proclaiming their marriage.

"…To have and to hold…"

Flash

Troy and Gabriella receiving a toast from their close ones.

"…For richer or poor…"

Flash

The crowd on the dance floor at the wedding, all together dancing to a faster song.

"…In sickness and in health…"

Flash

Troy and his mother sharing a hug.

"…Till death do us part."

Flash

The ship from afar. The lights flicker three times before they go out.

…**Until it was time for him to meet ****CRUEL REALITY.**

A damaged pipe breaks and water starts bursting out in enormous amounts. The water connecting with an electricity cabinet, enabling a short circuit.

Flash

"We must get out of here!" His father warns him, when colliding with him in a corridor.

Flash

"Gabriella!" He shouts after her, as she detaches her hand from his, heading towards the other direction. She turns to him and smiles weakly at his worried face.

"I have to find my parents." She hesitates. "We'll make it off the ship……..together."

Flash

**He thinks**** life turned completely against him.**

Troy sitting at the shore of the beach; although he's staring at the beautifully colored sunset, his gaze remains blank.

Flash

A coffin being lowered into the ground, a dozen sunflowers being tossed on it's lid – the last one is Troy's; he's the nearest to it, followed by his mother, supporting herself on his shoulder and sobbing uncontrollably.

Flash

Troy, standing on a small, cemented basketball court before their house, looking between the net and the basketball in his hands, finally flinging the ball into the fence.

**And, he me****ets her.**

As Sharpay walks into the classroom, shortly after, a few boys, one by one start to give away a whistle or a smartass 'hello'. Troy whips his head to the figure trying to find a seat in the room, with not much enthusiasm.

"Is she a new one?" He asks Chad, while still looking at her take a seat two rows behind him.

Chad nodes a little and gives a 'mhhm' from him, as he glances at her. "This year a lot more students exchanged here……" He pauses, not sure how to continue. "You know, because-"

"I know." Troy cuts him off, with no intention of hearing the rest.

**Not only is she someone who he really doesn****'t need right then…**

Sharpay, watching Troy poking through the food with his fork from across her at the table, leans a little to Taylor and loudly whispers to Chad sitting beside Troy.

"Is he deaf?"

Troy looks up from his plate, stony blue eyes glaring at her.

"No. No, he's not deaf."

Flash

"Stop lecturing me! You don't have a clue about what I've been through, so don't act like you know how I feel." Troy throws at Sharpay's face, which quickly reflects a disappointed and unsatisfied expression.

"Yeah, you're right." She stands up straight, looking down at his sitting form.

"I'm just some high-class Alabama doll, with her head in the clouds and her pockets full of money." Then her fake smile ceases into an unpleasant glare and her voice lowers to a whisper. "You better get down from that high horse really quickly."

…**She i****s also the total opposite of the girl he loved.**

Chad, Taylor, Troy and Sharpay driving down a lonesome road; the temperature very high on the sunny day. A car window is rolled down and Sharpay leans her torso dangerously far out of the car, laughing between screams.

Flash

"You don't care how others think about you, am I right?" Troy asks her carefully. Her small smile grows wider by the second, at last her eyes looking up to meet his.

"Where would the fun be if I did?"

**Unfortunately, it i****s she to whom he turns to for comfort. **

They're sitting on a wider swing. Troy keeps his gaze, staring before him, as Sharpay pulls her feet up and wraps her arms around her legs, pressing them tighter to her body.

"I was just like you once."

He breaks his stare and turns his head towards her.

"Terribly depressive, at the end with my strength and bearing the feeling of being guilty for everything that happened on my shoulders."

He's quiet for a while, until he speaks; his voice hoarse.

"What happened?"

She sighs sadly, before taking his hand and entwining their fingers together.

"I started fighting." She squeezes his hand. "I started fighting for a second life."

**And automatically fin****ds himself with the necessity of her presence.**

"What do you want!?" Sharpay screams, though the strength of her voice is less hearable, because of the heavy rain, pouring down from above, as their figures stand on the street; their clothes soaked wet and their hair sticking to their foreheads and cheeks.

"Hm!?" She throws her hands into the air. "If you haven't noticed - the whole World doesn't actually resolve around you!"

"What's your problem?" He yells back, utterly confused and a little offended.

"You ...I'm not your counselor, ok?! If you want one, go and search the yellow pages."

"What in God's name are you talking about?!"

She calms down, the heavy rain still ruining the silence they're suddenly in.

"The musical has opened almost a week ago." She catches her breath. "Why now? Why is it now, you come to see me? ...I'm only good enough when you want something. You're never here just for me!"

Flash

They're lying on the bed in her room, suddenly locking their eyes, when Troy slowly leans towards Sharpay, meeting her in a kiss.

**The problem ****though occurs…**

Sharpay walking down one of the halls of school, when she sees Troy at his locker. She rushes to his side just as he's about to open the locker and leans to him for a kiss, but he moves away and scratches the back of his head, while glancing up and down the hallway.

"Listen…..I don't mean this to sound the wrong way." He's finally able to look at her. "But, I don't think I'm ready for…..us…to be public yet."

Sharpay's puzzled face, soon takes on the characteristics of hurt and rejection, before she plasters a small, sincere smile.

"Don't worry, Troy. I understand………I'm ok with it."

Flash

"Sharpay, it can't go on like this." Taylor softly tells her. "I know you and this is not what you would have put yourself through."

Sharpay looks up at her friend.

"You're right Taylor……..But I really like him."

…**When he just can't leave his past behind.**

Sharpay standing up from the couch where Troy is still sitting, looking up at her fixing the button and zipper on her opened jeans. He runs a hand through his hair.

"Look, if this is about what I-" However, she cuts him off.

"This is about you." She raises her voice. "It's a about you and it's about me…….And shouldn't be about anybody else."

Flash

"I know she was your true love, but I'm not Gabriella!" Sharpay yells, with not much force, although with a lot more sorrow. "I'm never gonna be like her." She pauses, the last sentence very hard for her to get out, her voice cracking; her tears ready to flow. "It looks like I'll never come even close to your true love."

His eyes become guilty and sad, looking at her right at that moment, without an idea what to say or do.

**Zac Efron**

"I don't think I'm strong enough to fight."

**Ashley Tisdale**

"Why do I often find myself wanting something I can't have?"

**In **

**THE SIMPLE THINGS OF EVERGREEN**

**with**

**Corbin Bleu**

"Open your eyes man and look at her."

**and**

**Monique Coleman**

"I think I can decide what I want for myself…..And that includes you."

**Coming Soon t****o Computers near You**

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Oh, and by the way: The trailer for my other story; _What Hurts The Most_ is now on YouTube. It is rough-around-the-edges, but I hope it's at least viewable – Everything is explained in the video description on YouTube anyway:

Title: What Hurts The Most-a Troypay Fanfiction Trailer By: JustDifferentMe

Thanks again! Enjoy!


	2. Reminiscence Veil

Hey ! For the start: Thanks to everyone who decided to read the story and reviewed. I'm glad the readers like it. And I hope I did a good deal on the first chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own HSM

**Rated**: T (strong T, for extreme tragedy, depression, swearing words and maybe later sexual content.)

**Genre**: Drama/Romance

**Couple**: basically Troypay; and Chaylor ( if you want to count in the memories from Troy's past)

**Summary**: look – Trailer (hehe)

_**Memories - #... #**_the memories will not come all at once – he'll remember back from time to time (ex. They should marry on the ship and there isn't a memory of that in this chapter – that'll come later)

Ok, that's about it for explanation – So start reading!! Enjoy! And **send reviews**!!

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**Reminiscence Veil**

_The reddish color of the sun setting at the end of Horizon. The __tunes mews gave from themselves somewhere in the distance; sound of short waves hitting the shore in a rhythmical repetition. The presence of a gentle summer breeze._

Nothing seemed to bring out an emotion in his blue eyes. His deep blue sapphires; now overspread with cold, when they where staring at the sunset. His feet plastered to the ground; he could feel the small-grain sand through the sole of his sneakers. The breeze tickled every hair on his exposed arms. His breathing was quiet and calm as though he had stopped to breathe completely. Nothing seemed to touch him; on the inside not at all. But his mind wandered. It wandered constantly and right at that moment on the shore of the beach it wandered to that day. _18__th__ June. The junior basketball state championship. One of the best days of his life._

'_Troy! ...Troy!'_ The words resounded somewhere in the back of his head when his mind drifted away.

_#"Dude, Wait up!" Zeke yelled, for the third time calling after the figure of Troy walking down the hallway, trying to finally reach him. The voice of his friend reaching his ears, Troy slowed down and glanced over his shoulder; a smile as he almost tripped over a backpack on the floor, before reaching him._

"_Troy-" He said, catching his breath and attempting to sound sarcastic at the same time. "-You - making - an effort to avoid me? …I mean, Shelly told me about that time in the janitor's closet with you-" A big grin spread across Troy's lips – typical for him to say something like that. Zeke was a hopeless fool – on and of the basketball court. And a fantastic baker – no wonder Shelly fished him on dry land, but for a fish on land-he never looked happier._

"_Nah- …I'm just…__a little stressed." Troy rubbed his temples and sighed heavily. Zeke threw an arm around his shoulders and smiled, as they continued their walk._

"_You? The East High King?...Don't tell me you're nervous about the game?" Zeke mused; Troy took a big breath of air._

"_Actually – Yes." He paused, thinking for a moment. "The East High King?" He asked bewildered. Zeke__, his eyes on Troy's face, raised an eyebrow._

"_Why exactly am I the King?" Zeke snorted, at Troy's comment._

"_Hello! You're Troy fucking Bolton!"_

"_So……?" Troy__ was kind of confused. Lately he's heard the name; it seemed as though as if it were spreading like wildfire – The East High King? Why again?_

"_So, that fact makes every girl in school wanna be with you……and every guy be like you."_

"_Oh yeah?" Troy chuckled and scratched the back of his head; it was funny how Zeke said it. So obvious.__ God, what a reputation. Zeke smiled, fixing the backpack on his shoulder._

"_Yeah." #_

The sun had already set; the breeze had transformed into a chilly wind; the sea had ceased, picturing a perfect poise state. His eyes reflected a dark color, similar to his soul, his conscience, his being. He could see the first stars start to gather; a routine they have to repeat every night, whether they like it or not. That night was different. It was perfect. A gazillion, bright dots supplemented the pitch black background; plastered one by one, almost geometrically correct…

_#…The shabby, stripped brown-beige blanket was not the most comfortable, but the only one he could come up with in such short time. His hands burned for a moment when he drew them across the fabric, whilst hoisting himself up into a sitting position to look at her. She was beautiful. She was perfect. She changed the garments she wore to the championship game though, before he took her out – he didn't tell her it was a picnic under the night sky that he planned and she dressed up so nicely. A baby-blue, sleeveless dress, he saw her wear only once before. He smiled; he was smiling even more on the inside. He couldn't keep his eyes of her, as she still gazed at the stars. He didn't have to wait long. As if she felt his eyes on her, she turned her head to meet his eyes. His sparkly blue eyes._

"_What?" She asked him innocently; she didn't like it very much when someone stared at her.__ Although he often told her, that it was because he couldn't get enough of her, she still didn't feel comfortable with it. He crawled closer to her, without a word and leaned on his knees just before her. Her eyebrows furrowed; quite confused with what he was doing, but she stayed as she was, leaning against her palms. He couldn't wait any longer; he waited for the moment long enough. Rubbing his sweaty hands dry on his jeans, he reached into his pocket and finding the object, he enclosed it, his fingers recognizing its sharp corners. As he pulled it out, flat in his palm, he placed it in front of her eyes. She was smart; it didn't take her long to figure out what exactly it meant. Her eyes infatuated with the object in his hand, her mouth hanging wide open – just the reaction he hoped for._

"_Gabriella Montez,"__ He breathed out, opening the small box. "I want nothing more then to be yours forever……Will you marry me?" Her eyes glazed over. Tears threatening to spill from them, but didn't make it that far, for her lips spread into a smile and she looked at him._

"_I'd love to." She whispered, when he put the diamond ring on her finger. Finally. He was smiling. He couldn't wait any longer. #_

Troy glanced at his watch. 3.42 am. Damn, he'd been up till early morning again. His eyes hurt – his heart even more. He almost couldn't see where the sandy shore ended and the ocean began; he couldn't see much, but he was just thinking anyway. He sighed and moved his feet, making his way to the car. His shoes sunk in the soft sand, when he thought about the ride home. It would take him about 40 minutes and he hoped he wouldn't fall asleep behind the steering wheel.

The day after, about noon, he parked his car in front of St. Claire Montgomery Hospital and turned off the engine. He didn't like hospitals; it was something he disliked from childhood on. He disliked the smell of chlorine in every room; he disliked the constant white color; he disliked the quiet…. He counted everything he disliked about hospitals as he walked to the doors, which opened automatically for him to step in. _Another thing he disliked about hospitals._ He started down the entrance hall, when his mind took over again. _He hated this. And he hated the memory._

_#There were not many people on the second story below deck anymore. Just some faint figure here or there ran eventually pass him, desperately grasping onto the way leading her to liberation. Troy only glanced every now or then, with the hope the corridor he came down was still there. _

_He had to find her, he had to bring her on deck. He had to make sure she would leave the ship. He had to. _

_Dammit, the lights kept going on and off, flickering every half a minute. The last thing they would need would be the power going out completely. He could hear voices through the ceiling above his head; some distant cries; hundreds of feet rushing, hundreds of shoes beating against the either wooden or metal material. Cold sweat stuck to his forehead, sending stings of pain through his skull, when he continued sprinting down several halls. _

_His shoulder got a forceful shove, his eyes a glimpse of a familiar face, as somebody ran into him._

"_Troy." He heard the well-known voice behind, one hand on his upper arm, when he turned to look at his frightened and relieved friend. _

"_God." Chad breathed, and patted Troy's chest lightly "Thank God, my friend……Come on." He said and pulled Troy after, but before he could move him from his spot Troy pulled his hand away. Chad looked at him somewhat confused, but clearl__y not in the mood for this kind of stuff. _

"_Dude?...What are you doing?" He asked bewildered, trying to grab his sleeve again, Troy obviously not willing to._

"_That's the way outside. Just follow the corridor to the stairs on the right." Chad's eyes focused on the hallway for about a mere second, turning back towards his best bud. His facial expression was impatiently getting angrier by every word leaving Troy's mouth. _

"_You seriously have the nerve__ to put it up with me, if you think I'm gonna let you back here."_

"_Look, I have-"_

"_Don't play the hero, Troy! ... There are enough opportunities for that, but this is not it!" _

"_I lost Gabriella. She said she had to get her parents, but I can't find her anywhere." Troy stumbled with words._

"_And the first place she'll go will be upstairs.__" He tried to reason him. It was the only thing to do, but Troy wouldn't give up._

"_Chad-"_

"_She's a smart girl, man." Chad cut him off. "Don't be suicidal."_

_The floor under Troy's feet started to tremble – not that it was odd, until something shook the __ship, making it rock to left and immediately sending Troy and Chad to the carpeted ground. His eyes closed at the impact of his body with the hard wood. His ears sensed something obtuse; unable to define from which direction or anything. His hands brushed across the carpet beneath him; one hand grazing along something wet. Wet and liquid. His eyes shot instantly open; his breathing suddenly hard._

"_Chad." He barely got from his mouth, his throat terribly dry. "Chad, we got to get out of here." This time it was louder. "I think the water's reached this floor." _

_Troy brought his hand up to his face. He regretted it the moment his eyes landed on his limb. His heart started to beat unsteadily; his body heat began to rise. Water hadn't reached the floor. The liquid substance on his hand wasn't water. It was red and warm. Dammit, it was blood._

_Troy jumped and sat up, his hands running across his body rapidly, searching for any damage, any injury ……Anything. He couldn't find any part of himself drenched in blood. His breath cooled of, his hands slowing down the scanning of his features. Panic was still to be felt in every hidden part of the ship – there is was again, the flicker, between light and darkness. __He didn't feel stable, partly because of the swings the ship suffered. With the whizzing in his head, his thoughts, but quickly came to a conclusion. If that isn't his blood……Who's then? He didn't want to find out whose it was, because, he had more then a hunch. Damn, he was scared. Scared to look. Scared to move. And when a hand grabbed him by the arm, he was about to be confronted by what he already feared. 'Troy' A murmur, damp from the pressure in his ears. This isn't happening - #_

'Troy." His eyes opened on command, to the stimulation of a voice really near; his hands gripped the plastic handles of the poor chair. The high temperature in his body was gone, replaced by the same cold drops of sweat on his forehead. He had to blink, to adjust to the picture. His vision becoming clear, he looked into the brown orbs of his friend. They were nothing like he knew them – kind and confident, sometimes a little chaotic, but recently……His eyes mirrored a tiredness and weakness Troy had never seen in them. It didn't take him, but it changed him. It changed his friend.

"Hey." Her sobered quickly, his rough voice tickling the insides of his throat, and straightened himself in the chair he was sitting in. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty much fucked up." Chad tried to crack a smile. His skin was kind of…..pale – his dark color somewhat washed out. He looked skinnier than before and his every movement seemed to cost him all strength he had left. "They still won't let me do anything on my own." He hesitated; it may have been to think, it may have been to just catch his breath.

"But who am I to complain," He smiled. "I have a 24 year old hottie to escort me to the bathroom every. single. time."

Troy smiled just a second long, before leaning his arms on his knees, entwining his fingers together. He was really tired; he hadn't slept the previous night. He hadn't slept many nights for the last 3 weeks. He couldn't believe Chad had such a positive will towards life and everything that's happened. It was a dreadful feeling for Troy to see his best friend tied to a hospital bed like that.

"You can't fool me, man." Chad's tone of voice suddenly became serious and Troy lifted his head up to me his friend's worried one. "How are you?"

Troy sighed hardly, massaged his temples for a moment, clutching his hands together and looking at him.

"Awful." He whispered. "I haven't slept well and I'm quite exhausted-" Troy wanted to say more, but stopped when he saw the look on Chad's face. His eyes were tightly shut and his teeth pressed together forcefully. He was in pain. Troy was about to ask him what was wrong, when he noticed he was grasping his right leg through the covers. Or at least what was left from it…

# "_Shit" Hissed Troy, seeing his best friend half stuck under a marble prop, which had obviously fallen over after them when there was that heavy inclination, in the process crushing Chad's lower leg. He coughed up horridly and tore his eyes away. So much blood. Troy looked at his leg again. God, It was horribly damaged. Troy never liked the sight of blood and then his friend's leg had gotten basically split in half, except for a tiny piece of bone, that hadn't got crushed. Chad winced and hissed painfully, catching his breath, as if he were running. Troy would never forget the expression on his face; and it was devastating. He didn't know what to do: the voices from the distance remained, the ships stability hanging by a small thread…_

"_O god." He almost cried. He had no idea what to do and he was panicking. He reached under the prop and touched the cold stone. Quickly breathing 3 times in and out he tried to lift it with all his might. Nothing. He repeated the same thing again. Nothing. The prop didn't budge for a millimeter. _

"_Troy." Chad voiced himself for the first time. Troy breathed and tried again. Damn, the thing wouldn't move. He glanced at Chad, who still kept his eyes shut, a piercing scream escaping him._

"_Don't worry……I'll get you out from under there." He glanced in several directions, down and up the corridor. "Help!" He shouted, on the edge of tears. "Help!" But nobody appeared. Nobody. He slumped down, pressing his eyelids together, feeling the first warm tear__s spill down his cheeks. This wasn't supposed to happen. Any of this wasn't supposed to happen. Troy thought he was experiencing some kind of horrible nightmare, when Chad's words brought him back to reality._

"_No, no you won't." He mumbled, his teeth still pressed together. He was visibly in a lot of pain. _

"_No." Troy's heart shivered with every beat. "I will." Dammit, this was scary. He couldn't loose his best friend. Not like that. Not now. Chad looked at him for the first time, though barely._

"_You'll have to cut me free." He breathed deeply. "You'll have to find something and cut it off." Troy just stared at him for a little while, the information sinking deep into his mind, to be forever imprinted in his memory. He was about to protest. Why was this happening to him? He couldn't do it. He wouldn't be able to. He was about to open his mouth, when Chad beat him to it. He knew he would stall and they didn't have time for that._

"_You won't be able to move the darn thing……I'm either gonna end up stuck here, …… waiting for the water to reach me……or bleed to death." Damn; those tears stung in his eyes._

"_I can't" He sobbed into his hand, he held to his mouth._

"_You have to." Chad winced again. The pain was unbearable. Troy had to act now. "Troy, you have to." #_

Troy was staring at the covered up limb intently; Chad saw that after a while and watched as he suddenly tore his eyes from it, and rubbed his forehead with his palm.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. Chad relaxed against the pillow, keeping his eyes on him.

"What are you sorry for?" Troy looked up at the question. "For saving my life?" He asked him, although he knew it wasn't about that.

"No,….You know I would never…" Troy stopped himself, he couldn't say it. Hearing it out loud would make it even harder. But Chad wasn't his best buddy for nothing; he knew his friend and he knew what he was thinking.

"It was not your fault, Troy." Chad's words were more than sincere; however Troy still couldn't look at him. The guilt was eating him inside out and what Chad said hadn't stopped it.

A light knock on the door brought both boys to pay it attention. The door opened, with a young, middle-tall, redhead popping her head into the room. She had a small nose and freckles decorating her cheeks. Before she stepped in, she greeted the two with a smile.

"Good day, Danielle." Troy heard Chad speak up. Danielle - the hottie, who escorted him to the bathroom every day, a few years older though. Troy gave only a small smile, when the nurse in training stepped closer.

"I thought you'd like something from the cafeteria." She said, reaching into her pocket. Chad grinned – food. At least that didn't change.

"Would that be…..Chocolate pudding?"

"Of course." She pulled one out and handed it to him. "I know you wouldn't go for vanilla."

Chad looked at the cup in his hand and raised and eyebrow at her. "One?" She rolled her eyes, pulling another one from the same pocket, placing it on the night-table.

"You should know me better." She said; when he plastered on a smug smile.

"I could get to know you better if you'd go out with me."

"We went through this before." She sighed, but smiled a little. "A: I'm not allowed to date my patients. B: I'm six years older. And C: I'm engaged." She finished, raising her hand, with a ring and turned to head out again.

"But-" Chad started, before she cut him off, when she opened the door.

"Goodbye, Mr. Danforth." And the door closed behind her. Troy turned to Chad, suppressing a laugh, when he saw his unsatisfied face.

"Did you hear that?" He murmured; sounding offended. "Mr. Danforth. Jeez." He fake shivered, opened the wrapping and dug in the cup a tablespoon, lying on the nightstand. He stared at Troy for a while, when after he took the other one from the table and threw the pudding, with another spoon to him. Troy, caught the items and offered him a thankful smile, whilst Chad, that had already a mouthful of pudding, managed to smile back.

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I hope you liked it. Tell me if you did; please **REVIEW**!!


	3. Reminiscence Veil 2

**HEY!** First of all I'm so sorry for the time it took me to post another chapter. It's just that I had a lot of school work recently, but now I could finally get some writing done as you see. I just hope I did it justice and you're not disappointed.

Second of all: Sharpay has still not showed up, but she will; probably already in the next chapter.

There's nothing much to comment on this chapter actually. It's about Troy's memories and past flashbacks he gets in the present. I hope you like it anyway.

So….go ahead…..read away…….and **PLEASE SEND REVIEWS !! **Have fun!!

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**REMINISCENCE VEIL 2**

_To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,__  
__Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,__  
__To the last syllable of recorded time;__  
__And all our yesterdays have lighted fools__  
__The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!__  
__Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,__  
__That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,__  
__And then is heard no more: it is a tale__  
__Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,__  
__Signifying nothing._

_-William Shakespear;__ Macbeth _

The street lights cut through the darkness that lay thick over Albuquerque like a ray of artificial sun light in an orange color. The town was as cold as it looked like, when it first caught a person's eye; forgotten, forgotten the days of restless youth and dreams of a bigger tomorrow. Youth had shape-shifted into a broken state of mind and dreams had lost the thrill of excitement. Being able to fly had altered to a transitory achievement; to just spread ones wings and take off into the unknown of an adventure. Happy had become just another word in the dictionary; resting imprinted in its pages.

And people had washed their faces from the dirt of yesterday, all liars. _All liars._

Troy almost couldn't keep his eyes to pay attention to the road, as they stared meaninglessly through the car window, the vehicle racing down the streets of the abandoned places everywhere. It hurt and it took all of his nerves not to let them fall close. His stiff fingers were wrapped around the stirring wheel, holding onto it for dear life, word for word. _Dammit._

What was he doing out so late again? Was it really that late? Wasn't there just seconds ago the sun, the majestic sun that sank behind the edges of the mountains or was his lack of judgment only telling him that to make a fool out of him? Had he always been that naive? Troy had to admit he didn't know and personally, he didn't give a shit.

He stopped at a red light - he had to, on a quiet crossroad, with no one in sight. Not a soul, just his poor excuse of a living being. Sighing, he let his gaze shift down from the view of the street for a moment, when he noticed his left hand, his finger precisely, still propped on the stirring wheel. _He hadn't taken it off_. He could not take it off. He didn't have the heart to do so. Not since he first put it on, or better said, she put it on…

_Flash...The ring slid on perfectly, like i__t was meant to be worn specifically by him and nobody else; like it belonged to him and only him and so did the gentle hand, which was holding his, while guiding the ring on his finger. The hand trembled a little from excitement, as well as his whole body. His eyes but slowly and respectfully wandered up to the person, who accomplished in making him the happiest man alive, when they met with a pair of brown ones. His lips extended into a huge smile, showing of his while teeth and his deepest happiness, he couldn't suppress. _

"_By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." _

_Troy was to bewildered to even comprehend that he finally got to hear those words; those words, which sounded like an enchanted melody in his ears. Married. They were married. Mr. and Mrs. Bolton. It had a really lovely sound to it. Nothing could ever be put together more beautifully than those words. Finally. She finally became Mrs. Troy Bolton. Gabriella Bolton. _

_Through the net of his own thoughts he saw her, smiling up at him, as if seeing, feeling, knowing his own world, he was in at the moment. He reasoned with himself that she never looked more beautiful as then. Not when he first met her at the New Year__'s party he was basically forced to go to. Not when he bumped into her in school accidentally a week later. Not never._

"_You may kiss the bride."_

_Gladly, he got form his significant consciousness, which obviously didn't want to leave him alone, not even in such a personal exper__ience. Then again, it was not as if he had something to object to that. So, he watched her eyes fall shut in delicate slow motion and he leaned in to meet his love in the middle, where their lips would officially seal their ceremony in life…Flash_

…The loud noise of a horn, brought Troy back to his senses, where his eyes only saw the dark road, which lay ahead of him – the same as when he last left the scene. Nobody, nothing was there, _still the lonely shadow waits hopelessly_. Odd, he thought. Was it his imagination that yet again played silly games with him? He first didn't quite get what was happening, until the horn resounded. Noticing only then, that the light turned green and that he blocked the road for the car behind him, he shifted into gear and raised a hand to apologize to the driver for the delay he caused, before he turned into another street. _Another shadow._

His truck did not come to complete stop until he arrived at home and parked it in their driveway. When he turned off the engine, he remained still for the sound that reached his ears. Silence. _Almost dead silence._ He couldn't even hear his own breathing keeping him alive; _he did not want to._ He shut out practically everything, and everyone, just because he didn't want to.

Dragging himself to the front door, after stepping out of the vehicle, he didn't even stop, even sigh – he didn't waste time, although 'wasting time' stopped bothering him at all. _Shadows had no time they could waste._ He could've cared less. Unlocking it and closing it afterwards, when he stepped inside, he made his way through the darkness that filled the room. Not that it disturbed him in a way: He preferred it like that now more then ever and he knew the place like he knew himself _(literally) _– it had been all in all his home for the last 18 years.

Leaving the living room behind him, he came to stop in the kitchen, where he placed his keys on the counter and stepped to the fridge, opening it to get out a carton of orange juice. He didn't eve like orange juice. But he drank it anyway. And after drinking out of it, he didn't even bother putting it back; he just placed it on the counter, right beside his keys and left it there.

From the corner of his eye he spotted a glimpse of an object on the kitchen table. When he turned completely in the direction, there appeared before his eyes a plate, filled with spaghetti and some green lettuce – nothing but his dinner he assumed - , and a small note that rested on the side of it. Knitting his brows, Troy walked to the table and picked the note from its place, bringing it up to read its contents. He knew, but he decided to read it anyway. He went over the perfect _Lucida _handwriting that was so familiar:

_Honey, _

_You missed dinner. Again. I don't know where you go lately; I don't know where you are anymore. Please, stop these late night trips you that already became a habit of your. Please, I'm scared. _

_And I'm … I left you something to heat up. I know you like pasta… You must eat something._

_Xxx_

Troy sighed, when he closed his eyes and let the piece of paper in his hands fall to his side. _Late night trips. Scared. Pasta._ He didn't like spaghetti, at least not recently. He wasn't hungry; he hadn't been hungry in a while now. He threw only a glance at the food, before he placed the message back on the table and left the kitchen, ascending the stairs he reached in the hallway in no time.

His room was in a close distance, from where he came up the staircase and soon, when he would disappear behind the doors, he would fall on his bed, and hopefully, get some sleep. Sleeping became a real problem the last weeks and he was in dire need of it. Not necessary he would get any the night.

Hi parent's bedroom lay right next to his and passing, _floating like not there_, he could easily overhear the sobbing coming from behind the closed door. The cries, like every night, came in short periods, but muffled and quiet enough, so the person thought he wouldn't hear them when he came home. He heard though; _every time, every evening_, just like the last time she cried right beside him…

_Flash…He could feel her tears through his shirt, as they cascaded down her pale__ cheeks and onto his clothes. He could hear her loud cries; everyone could, as she held tightly onto his arm for her life. She could not keep herself on her feet alone; she couldn't even look, so she buried her face into her son's shoulder. Her voice had become hoarse and shallow from the crying. And his heart tore with every sound she brought out. _

_Troy didn't want to cry, for many reasons. For his mother – she needed a rock for support; for his father, so he would be proud of him at least once in a lifetime; for everybody else; for the world and mostly for himself. Not so easy, he found out 15 minutes ago, when he burst in tears unintentionally__, though to his luck behind closed doors. It was only now that his still red and swollen eyes were displayed for them to see. He was too tired to cry at the moment; he believed he would have. _

_It was a warm summer morning, but he couldn't tell. He felt cold and not even his mother's closeness could prevent the chills running down his spine. He was cold, and he was distant; to all. He didn't listen, he didn't speak. His eyes were fixated but only on the coffin that lay a few feet before him. A simple, cherry wood coffin, with an organized set of __sunflowers in the middle of the lid. Sunflowers; they were his favorites. And the small one, he picked in their garden that morning and was at the moment resting in his fist, was nothing compared to them. He didn't have to look around to notice how many came. How many that didn't know. How many that came out of decency and not caring. How many that would of pity him and his family, without a clue of how they felt. Screw their pity and screw them, thought Troy. _

"_Troy." His ears locating a voice, his eyes fell for a blink of a second on the reverent__, an old man, who motioned with a hand towards the coffin. "Will you do the honors, please?"_

_He didn't know if he really wanted to. It was hard enough to just be there. But he stepped closer, as soon as his mother managed to let go of his arm, with his feet barely able to carry him. Standing before the object, he could feel the people's stares on him. Why? Why did he deserve something like this? _

_With force, he lifted his hand that held the small flower and leaned a bit forward to place it on the lid with the others. Straitening back up, he took the garment, which was being tightly clutched by the other hand. With both hands he spread the fabric, so that it danced in the light breeze and slowly lowered it on the coffin. After leveling the piece of clothing, he took two steps back, where his mother immediately took a hold of him again. _

_Troy didn't think it would be so hard to comprehend. __So hard to bear. Especially now, when he looked at the letters the jersey on the cover displayed: Coach Bolton…Flash_

…Troy couldn't stand hearing his mother's cries through the door anymore, so he took the remaining steps to his bedroom with heavy feet and a heavy heart. _He was awful_; he was an awful son, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. Anything.

In his room he closed the doors behind him and he closed behind him the veil of reminiscence that seemed to get the better of him.

* * *

P.S. Ok, so I got a little reminder from tennisplayerx33; Basically I wrote Ch., because I thought it was a short form for Coach. And I wrote paste instead of pasta - although paste is also very much correct. (I looked it up in a dictionary) The reason why Troy THINKS he is a bad son is because he doesn't do anything to help his mother and is always away instead of being there for her in the time of need. And yeah, I didn't reveal that it was indeed Jack Bolton's funeral in Troy's memory till the last second, but that's the whole point, you know? And I gave some hints. (ex. The way Troy's mom took it so badly.) Thank you for the reminder tennisplayerx33.

Anyway, I apologize for the mistakes and hope you'll still have a pleasant reading.


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